


Relax

by Xuis



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Make Outs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 01:54:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5439146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xuis/pseuds/Xuis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While taking a break, Fiddleford and Stanley have a bit too much to drink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relax

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is my very first fanfic ever, critique always welcome. Hope you all enjoy it.

      Fiddleford carefully guided his pencil along the graph paper, nearly finished with the first part of his prototype. He glanced up to see Stanford furiously writing on a blackboard. They’d been working nonstop on the portal for almost a month now, working until the wee hours of the morning to try to make any sort of progress. The click of an elevator snaps Fiddleford out of his thoughts and a loud and obnoxious “You guys are STILL working down here?! It’s nearly 2am!” erupts from the opening doors.

      “Stanley we’ve been making good progress, no reason to hinder ourselves with ‘bedtimes’” Stanford said quietly, still engrossed in the blackboard. Stanley groaned, “You guys are going to burn out, c’mon come upstairs and we can hang out! Ya nerds have to let your minds have a break”. Stanford scoffed, Stanley walked over to Fiddleford’s desk. He waved his hand in Fiddleford’s face and said “Hey Earth to nerd, I’m bored and you all need a break. There’s a monster movie marathon on and I happen to have some booze. Come up and relax.”

      Fiddleford looked down at his blueprints, he definitely didn’t have the stamina for this work that Ford did. The past week has been wearing on him. Maybe he did just need to sit back and relax for a couple hours. Fiddleford set down his pencil “Yeah all right Stan, I’ll hang out with you.” He looked over at Ford, “You sure you don’t want to join us?” Ford waved a hand at them to signal no, tapping his piece of chalk against his forehead in thought. Stan and Fiddleford headed upstairs.

      The living room was lit only by the television, currently playing “Night of the Dead Living!” Stan went to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard. Fiddleford had settled on the couch and was laying back, rubbing his forehead and trying to let go of the stress of the past week. Stan set the glasses and bottle on the coffee table and settled at the opposite end of the couch from Fiddleford, leaning over the table pouring two shots. “Honestly I don’t know how you guys do all that work all day, I remember barely being able to do math homework without wanting to die when I was a kid let alone hours on hours of it.” He handed a shot to Fiddleford who chuckled “I could say the same to you and all the hard labor you do, I definitely don’t think I could stand working for the lumber mill.” 

      They both laughed lightly, clinking their glasses together before downing the shot. Stan drank it smoothly while Fiddleford, not as used to hard liquor, winced as the liquid burned his throat.  They both sat on the couch comfortably, enjoying the bad movie and Stan occasionally pouring them both a shot. By the fifth shot Fiddleford was feeling the heavy shroud of alcohol over his mind. He felt relaxed for the first time in quite a while, didn’t think about the portal or any of the work he still had ahead of him, a dopey grin on his face as he watched the movie. 

      He looked over at Stan, who wore a calm expression, focused on the T.V. Fiddleford’s eyes grazed over his broad shoulders, his chubby but fit physique. He blushed, never having thought about Stan like this. His eyes eventually landed on Stan’s lips, blush growing. His mouth gaped slightly thinking about how good it would feel to have those lips on his own. Far in the back of his mind he recognized that the alcohol was clouding his judgement, but he couldn’t care about that much. ‘Oh sweet juniper, I need to look away before he notices…’  
He looked up to Stan’s eyes and jumped a bit in shock, Stan was staring directly at him, a questioning expression on his face. ‘How long has he been doing that?’ Fiddleford thought hazily. 

      “Fidds, are you alright?” Stan said, leaning over closer to Fiddleford “You look red as a tomato, maybe it’s time to call it a night?”

      Fiddleford pulled himself onto his knees on the couch, facing Stanley. ‘Maybe I should just take a chance…Can always blame it on the whiskey…’ He thought nervously and he leaned forward. His hand came up to cup Stan’s cheek, Stan’s eyes suddenly going wide. He could feel Stan’s face heat up as he glanced between Fiddleford’s hand on his cheek and his face approaching closer. Finally Fiddleford closed the gap, his lips softly brushing against Stan’s. Stan made a small noise, body stiff in shock. After a moment of thought Fiddleford felt him shrug and deepen the kiss. Their Lips moving rhythmically against each other; soft, hungry noises coming from Fiddleford and long soft moans escaping Stan as they pressed harder into each other. Stan’s foot came up to rest against the coffee table, using it to push his body closer to Fiddleford. He licked lightly at Fiddleford’s bottom lip and hummed when he felt Fidd’s mouth open slightly. 

       Their tongues dueled, both wanting to be dominant. Stan felt a loud moan vibrate through him and pulled back, breathing heavily. He looked at Fiddleford, his eyes dazed and face red. Fiddleford was breathing heavily, looking at him with hungry eyes. Both jumped as they heard a loud “What the hell is happening in here?!” from the living room doorway. Stanford was there, looking at them with an embarrassed and shocked expression. “I-I uhm… Well Ford you see…ah…” Fiddleford stuttered, utterly embarrassed. “Stress release!” Stanley piped in, smiling like a jester and Fiddleford hid his face in his hands. Ford looked between Stan and a flustered Fiddleford, sighing “Just, whatever. I don’t care. Just be prepared to wake up bright and early Fidds, we have a lot to do.” With that Stanford headed for his bedroom. 

      “I…u-uhm, I’m going to h-head to bed then” Fiddleford stuttered to Stan before jumping up to go to his room, face still bright red. Stan watched him go, than looked at the whiskey and credits playing on the television. “Ha, going to have to get that nerd to ‘relax’ more often” he thought with a mischievous grin, glancing back to the stairs where Fiddleford had disappeared to.


End file.
